Kabaddi: Punjab’s game of life

“Kaudi, kaudi, kaudi, kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi….”

The shouts were getting louder inside the mud circle – the scene of a battle between raiders and stoppers. The site was the 2020-2021 farmers’ protest at the Singhu and Tikri borders outside Delhi. Kabaddi commentary mingled with slogans and speeches of resistance – lakhs of farmers and agricultural workers had stood in protest here till the three farm laws were repealed.

At the end of the weeklong tournament in September 2021, a new player emerged: Shilu Balhara from Rohtak, Haryana. He went on to join the league of kabaddi stars from Punjab where young men from low-income and marginalised communities are finding a firm financial footing.

Circle-style kabaddi is one of the first sports that boys in Punjab’s villages pick up. Its appeal lies in its simplicity; no equipment is required – often the players don’t even wear shoes. The rules are simple, and it is played on mud.

That it is physically demanding is an added attraction for youth who take pride in building a strong physique. The game — also known as Punjab-style kabaddi — is played at fairs, community gatherings, and local tournaments.

The kabaddi season in Punjab runs alongside the agricultural calendar. It starts in October, after sowing, and continues until April, when the harvest arrives.

Shilu Balhara, the son of a marginal farmer in Bahu Akbarpur village, was among the highest-paid players at the Toronto-based United Brampton Kabaddi Club in 2025. A three-month contract at the club earns star players Rs. 50 to 70 lakh. As a top stopper, he has also won over a dozen tractors so far.

Balhara’s rise reflects the transformation kabaddi has brought in the social and economic standing of hundreds of youth.

“Had I not pursued kabaddi, even buying a bicycle would have been a challenge,” says Soni Singh. His story too follows this arc. Born into a Dalit family in Bhadra, a village in Punjab’s Mansa district, dominated by the land-owning upper caste Jat Sikh community, Soni’s father worked as a farm labourer. “I too worked on others’ farms to supplement the family income. I once hoped to join the armed forces to escape poverty, but failed the medical due to an eye injury sustained while playing kabaddi,” he says.

After the injury, Soni focused entirely on the sport. His talent helped the family move from a two-room house to a bungalow in the village.

“Kabaddi has given me everything — money, fame, and respect. Today, my entire village takes pride in the fact that I am carrying its name across Punjab and abroad,” says the 27-year-old who is popularly known as Soni Bhadra, for the village he comes from.

Soni plays for the NRI Nakodar Club in Punjab, and has built a career overseas. In the last three-four years, he has played in New Zealand, Australia and England. “Today I’ve won 18–20 motorbikes, including a Harley-Davidson,” says Soni.

Manpreet Singh, 25, better known as Money Dayalpur, is the son of a security guard. He dropped out of school after Class 9, and worked for some time as a hospital attendant. But kabaddi has been a life-changer. Since 2022, he has played four seasons in New Zealand, and two each in Australia and England.

“I dream of building a house in my village. I’ve even asked my father to stop working, but he still insists on earning his own living,” says Manpreet, whose village, Dayalpur (spelt as Dialpur in Census, 2011), straddles Kapurthala and Jalandhar districts.

Both Soni and Manpreet get three-month contracts worth Rs. 15 lakh when they are signed on abroad. They point out that it’s a tough sport – knee and shoulder injuries are common. But the financial rewards make it attractive for boys from lower income families.

Between 2010 and 2016, when the Shiromani Akali Dal was in power, the Punjab government organised a Kabaddi World Cup every year and transformed the sport into a financially rewarding career. The overall annual budget of the domestic tournaments in Punjab now is estimated at nearly Rs. 250 crore, while the overseas competitions add another Rs. 150 crore.

Since 1990, kabaddi has also been a part of the Asian Games, and it entered urban homes via the Pro Kabaddi League. But that is a different style of the game, described as standard format, played on a rectangular court. Most national and international tournaments are played on synthetic mats, and even domestic competitions are gradually shifting from mud to mat. Players wear flat-soled shoes designed for mat surfaces.

Circle-style kabaddi is still played on a mud ground with a circular pitch – 22 metres in diameter. Each team has raiders and stoppers. When a raider enters the opponents’ circle, he encounters four stoppers. The stopper who is first touched by the raider has to prevent the raider from returning to his zone. At that point, the game becomes a one-on-one contest, though physical assault is not allowed. In each raid, the same rule applies — four stoppers take the field, and a successful raid earns the raider’s team one point, while an unsuccessful raid gives a point to the opposing team. Usually a team has 12 players, but the number of players can vary in some rural tournaments.

This style of kabaddi lacks a formal sporting structure or recognition. It has thrived on community support and might be the only Indian rural sport that, without a formal system, not only survives but continues to grow stronger each year.

Nearly all of Punjab’s 12,500-plus villages host tournaments. The farming community contributes funds, while non-resident Indians (NRIs) from the village offer generous support. Entry to the tournaments in the state is free because these are seen more as festivals. Depending on the tournament size, the number of spectators can range from 5,000 to 50,000.

The prize money varies widely. A good tournament might have a budget of Rs. 10-50 lakh, along with rewards such as cars, motorbikes, or even combine harvesters. Each participating team receives an appearance fee, divided among the 12 players. As the team progresses, payouts increase, with special prizes for the winners. Individual awards — best raider or stopper — are offered in both cash and kind. In high-budget events, top players often collect individual prizes such as Harley-Davidson bikes, tractors, or Mahindra Thars.

The biggest tournaments are held after November, when top players return from overseas.

“I have lived this tournament — as a player, spectator, now an organiser,” said Balkar Singh, 42, of Lehal Khurd. “Kabaddi has been the identity of Punjab and Punjabis for generations. We have grown up watching, playing, and listening to stories of kabaddi stars."

The road into Lehal Khurd, a village in Sangrur district, does not announce itself loudly. But standing tall at its entrance is the statue of Naik Gurjant Singh, a martyr of the 1971 India-Pakistan war and a Vir Chakra awardee, a brave son in whose memory the village has hosted a kabaddi tournament every December since 1972. This year’s tournament was held from December 11 to 13, concluding on the day Naik Gurjant Singh laid down his life.

On December 11, proceedings began by honouring ex-servicemen, followed by children’s matches. While space for women as spectators remains almost negligible, the organisers attempted to break new ground with a women’s demonstration match. A new addition was a trolley-loading contest, where teams shifted 75 sacks that were each filled with 35 kg grain, drawing loud cheers for their raw strength and coordination. The final match stretched till 2 am.

The village of over 2,600 voters, with a largely Jat Sikh population, treats the tournament as a collective duty. The entire panchayat contributes, and preparations begin months in advance. The event fuels a small rural economy — vendors selling chhola-kulcha, sugarcane juice and groundnuts earn in three days what often takes a month. The audience is largely young, though men of all age groups line the arena through the afternoon. As the sun sets and floodlights take over, the elderly drift home, leaving the youth to witness the final, bruising moments late into the night.

Wherever Punjabis have migrated, kabaddi has travelled with them — whether it is Canada, the US, the UK, or Australia. Tournaments held overseas are not merely sporting events but cultural carnivals, tethering communities abroad to the rhythms of Punjab’s soil.

Dr. Sukhdarshan Singh Chahal, a research officer with the Punjab Language Department who holds a PhD for his work on the sport’s overseas connections, said: “The foreign migration from Punjab began in the early 20th century, and wherever Punjabis went, they carried Punjab-style kabaddi with them. Because the earliest waves of migration were towards Canada and England, Punjab-style kabaddi first found its overseas footing there.”

In England, tournaments have been organised since the 1950s, with the season running from May to early August. In Canada, it stretches from June to September, followed by tournaments in the United States. The overseas calendar begins in March in New Zealand, and shifts to Australia in April. This global spread ensures the sport offers a year-round source of livelihood for hundreds of Punjab players.

“The Punjabi community in England is deeply connected with kabaddi. It is part of their culture and tradition, and also a way to stay connected with their roots,” said British Member of Parliament Tanmanjeet Singh Dhesi, 47, popularly known as Tan Dhesi.

Kabaddi promoter Kulwant Sangha, now in his mid-60s, said: “A newcomer from Punjab can easily earn Rs.10 lakh in the three-month England season, while star players make Rs. 40-50 lakh.”

Canada hosts the biggest kabbadi circuit outside Punjab. “Every year around 100 kabaddi players travel from Punjab to Canada. A player earns at least Rs. 10 lakh for a season, while the top 10-15 names earn between Rs. 50-70 lakh,” says Canada-based promoter Manjit Singh Lali.

The kabaddi economy extends beyond players, and sustains coaches, support staff, and especially commentators.

“A commentator can earn Rs. 10-12 lakh in an overseas season. Domestically, they make Rs. 10,000-20,000 per tournament,” said 43-year-old Satpal Mahi Khadil from Sangrur, who has been behind the mic for 24 years.

Satpal comes from a landless Dalit family — his father was a daily wager. “I too would have ended up as a labourer. But I loved listening to sports commentary on the radio and reading books, which improved my skills. Kabaddi changed everything — today I own a house, a car, and I’ve travelled to Australia, England and Canada.”

Commentators like Satpal are the backbone of tournaments, keeping thousands of spectators hooked with their energetic voices. They introduce players, explain tactics, build excitement, and act as cultural bridges when the tournaments go global.

Aman Lopon, 34, another commentator, said: “I started in 2007, and my first overseas assignment was in Canada in 2010. Since then, I’ve covered events in every country where professional kabaddi is played.” Hailing from village Lopon in Moga, he owns just an acre and a half of farmland. But earnings from kabaddi commentary have ensured he lives in a “decent house” and drives an SUV.

For former player Gurlal Singh Ghanaur, who is also president of the Punjab Kabaddi Association, the sport became a launching pad to public life – he is now an MLA from Ghanaur on an Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) ticket. The Punjab Kabaddi Association is one of four main kabaddi associations in the state, each of which includes current and former players and promoters. They have teams registered with them and independently organise tournaments.

When Jagdeep Singh, 43, from Galib Kalan village in Ludhiana, popularly known as Jagga Galib, began participating in tournaments in 2001, the financial rewards were limited. He played for almost 20 years and now works as a coach and talent scout. The money in the sport has multiplied many times in the last 15 years, he says.

But the sport’s success has also been accompanied by a rise in ugly rivalries. In 2022, British-Indian player Sandeep Nangal Ambia, 38, one of the game’s top stars and a campaigner against the drug menace, was shot dead on the sidelines of a tournament in Jalandhar’s Mallian Khurd. Police suspect the murder was triggered by kabaddi rivalry.

Another black mark is the gender disparity, with very few opportunities available for women. It is a gap the Major Kabaddi League – another of the four associations – is trying to bridge by including at least one girls’ match in every tournament under their banner.

On the whole, though, kabaddi has truly lived up to its name as the rural heartbeat of Punjab.

Players enjoy folk-hero status, and are celebrated in songs and at village gatherings. From Diljit Dosanjh to the late Sidhu Moose Wala, several singers have paid tribute to the sport. Babbu Maan’s track “Kabaddi Kabaddi” has garnered over 11 million views on YouTube.

And the players are at the forefront when it comes to giving back. The sit-in at Delhi’s borders against three farm laws enacted in September 2020 had begun in November 2020 and lasted more than a year until the laws were repealed. As the days turned into weeks and then months that stretched endlessly ahead, the community rallied behind the farmers: doctors volunteered, popular singers performed, and kabaddi players turned the protest site into a sports arena to keep spirits up.

In 2020-21, farmers across the country had gathered to protest against three farm laws – Farmers (Empowerment and Protection) Agreement on Price Assurance and Farm Services Act, 2020, the Farmers’ Produce Trade and Commerce (Promotion and Facilitation) Act, 2020 and the Essential Commodities (Amendment) Act, 2020, pushed through in Parliament in September 2020. The government agreed to repeal the laws in November 2021. Read PARI stories on the movement: Protests against farm laws: full coverage

At Singhu and Tikri, the players did not just participate in the matches, they also volunteered to enforce discipline and manage logistics at the sit-in and contributed to the langar (community kitchen), reinforcing the bond between sport and society.

Footballer-turned-kabaddi promoter Tony Sandhu, secretary of the Major Kabaddi League that organised the tournament, says kabaddi players are always among the first to respond whenever there is any issue concerning farmers.

Mangat Singh Mangi, captain of India’s team in the inaugural Kabaddi World Cup in 2010, explains the sentiment. “Kabaddi is a rural sport, played by rural youth and sustained by the community. How can kabaddi players remain distant?” asks the 41-year-old from Bagga village in Jalandhar district who is also called the “king” of kabaddi. “Whatever I am today is because of kabaddi and the community that stands behind this sport.”